


Big as Mountains

by Kyriadamorte



Series: A true and perfect image of life indeed [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriadamorte/pseuds/Kyriadamorte
Summary: A collection of Inquisition/pre-Inquisition one shots in the same verse as Bone and Amber.





	Big as Mountains

Nerin wakes up in chains, surrounded by angry shemlen, and she feels the mask of deference that she had mastered in the alienage so long ago slip into place. Mythal's valasllin feel a mockery on her face as she stutters and placates and acts the frightened rabbit. Well, most of it is an act, anyway.

She can't bring herself to feel too terribly about it because, for all that her heart has learned to beat the words _Never_ _again_ _shall we_ _submit_ , it also knows older ones, whispered in the black alleys of city slums: _Never taunt a rabid wolf._

She won't let her annoyance and frustration and wounded pride bring another Exalted March down upon her people.

So she ducks her head and worries her lip and says her 'please and thank you's. She slips into a Ferelden accent, knowing a Dalish brogue will plant seeds of doubt in their heads regardless of what she says. She offers to help, eyes wide and eager, knowing full well she doesn't have a fucking choice.

She offers to put down her staff without a hint of backtalk when the fancy Templar (- _Seeker? Fuck, I'll have to figure out what that is later. It seems pretty high up in that Chantry so it can't be anything good_ -) snaps at her, all the while thinking, _Falon'Din's withered nipples - I'm a fucking mage, dipshit._

They finally run into people who aren't fucking human: a dwarf who the Seeker might like even less than Nerin and an elf.

An elf who also happens to be a mage.

_Maybe I'm not so alone after all._ She allows herself a small grin at the thought _._

Her good mood lasts for about twenty six minutes.

She's trudging up and down the snowy hills, wondering what to say to him. She tries to formulate some sort of ice breaker ( _Ha_! She laughs to herself as she slips on a patch of the stuff) - an impulse that had everything to do with getting some allies in this clusterfuck and absolutely nothing to do with the way he had looked when he threw his head back and laughed.

He saves her the trouble.

"You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?”

"Clearly? You know much about the Dalish?" She's surprised, but not overly so. Most city elves steer clear of Dalish clans, but there are a few that like to mingle for trade or ... other types of trade.

"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion."

"Crossed paths?" Was he one of the touristy types who liked to rough it with their 'savage brethren' - learn some Elvhen, sing some songs, maybe play dress up for a bit - but still have the option to go home and sleep in a bed?

“I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.”

_Yikes_.

She feels her heart sink. The 'your people' bites a little harder on reflection than it had the first time round.

She doesn't speak much after that.

They cut their way through hoards and hoards of demons - more in a matter of minutes than she's seen in her whole life.

The temple itself is on a whole other level. What must have been a rather large building reduced to rubble. Corpses burnt, but standing where they died. Red lyrium carving great bleeding scars through the landscape. A coldness that has nothing to do with the weather settles in her stomach.

They finally get to the breach and it's _so_ _fucking big_. It's her and a handful of archers and a dwarf with an unhealthy attachment to his crossbow and a woman who's been one step away from killing her herself since she woke up and an elf who apparently also hates her against a huge fucking green vortex spilling demonic shite everywhere.

They are so fucked.

_Fucked fucked fucked_ a pulse beats in her throat as she dances away from talons clawing at her, ripping at the clothing she'd nicked in a piss-poor attempt at not standing out. _Fucked_ _fucked_ _fucked_ as she runs like hell from the biggest fucking pride demon she has ever seen.

Miraculously, they manage to bring the thing down and beat back the others.

_This is it - here goes nothing._

She extends her hand as she had done before, but this time the icy-hot energy isn't just in her hand - it's rushing through her veins and she can feel it in her teeth, in her nails, in her _fucking_ _eyeballs_. Everything in her is lit up and connected and tugging, but she tugs right back, pulling with everything she has.

The connection snaps and she falls backwards, feeling emptied of her mana in a way she never has before - hollowed out, scraped at the sides. As she struggles to breathe and darkness gathers at the edge of her vision, she really wishes she had told them all to go fuck themselves.

Just once.


End file.
